


Aftermath

by TheShyOne (ShyChangling)



Series: Losing Streaks [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, Gen, Selectively Mute Bumblebee, Various Autobots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyChangling/pseuds/TheShyOne
Summary: Bumblebee doesn't like the way he's treated now. He's always been seen as oxymoronically durable and fragile. And now he's just fragile.
Series: Losing Streaks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106927
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a bit since I've posted anything. I'll be noted that I wrote this before finding out Bee is canonically mute in Exodus and Prime. 
> 
> I'm just very attached to an idea of Bee as selectively mute and the struggle with that due to trauma. Like me!
> 
> Not a long fic. Just wanted to put something out finally while I procrastinate V1's next chapter like a fool. Cause instead of writing that I worked on slowly getting this out and watching more Transformers.
> 
> Edit: context is in part one of this series.

He can see everyone acting differently. The quiet words and whispers stopping the moment he enters a room. The friendly faces hiding their pity. The helpful hands doing everything for him. 

"You just got out of medical. Surely there's something I can be an assistant of." Tracks asks the third time he sees Bumblebee passing the halls back and fourth.

Poor kid was benched from his duties till further notice. "No, I'm fine." It's still sore to in his chest, where the tearing was. But that isn't what hurts when ever someone gets too close in their worry.

"You're going to walk a hole in the Ark if you keep this up." Tracks is following him now. "We could do a wonderful drive in one of my favorite spots for-"

Bumblebee turns abruptly. Brushing away the reaching hand that was heading for his shoulder. "Tracks, I-," the words straining as if he's struggling to get it out." Appreciate the Gesture. But I am fine. I can't leave base anyway." Perhaps a little white lie, but he's not allowed out without someone to supervise.

Who knows what Megatron's plan for him was, or if its unfinished. In all accounts, its by some miracle he's alive despite his condition.

Bumblebee didn't think it a miracle. He can't voice why he knows Megatron's action was a success. The humiliations it brought him. The further humiliation as no one treats him the same. All wearing that same pitiful smile Tracks does now when they look at him.

Its driving Bumblebee mad. He turns abruptly away again and heads for his room, practically running.

"Perhaps, another time then." Tracks voice fades as Bee slips back into his room.

Back pressed against the wall, careful of his door wings. Then finally he slides down to his knees and puts his hands to his face. He won't cry, he refuses to cry. That'll just be another point for the Decepticons!

\--

Its been too long without a trip to the communal wash and showers. Ratchet gives a disproving look mixed into his worry as Bumblebee sits on the exam table for one of the few check ups he'll be having before he'll be put back to scouting.

If they even decide that. Bumblebee sighs and his tired optics stare at the floor. He's collecting literal dust, and there's still mud caked onto him from the incident.

Even though they attempted to clean him as best they could. It appeared too traumatizing to clean more then what was needed to fix his chest.

"Are you, listening? Bumblebee." Ratchet taps his data pad to get the poor kid's attention.

Bumblebee raises his tired optics off the ground up at him. "I get it, I need to "take better care of myself." He plasters a grin on his face and dangles his dirty legs. "I will! Time just keeps blurring together is all."

Ratchet gives him that damn pitiful look. Shakes his head and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I know it was traumatizing, Bumblebee. But that doesn't mean we neglect our body."

"Who's this we?" Bumblebee snorts. "I'm fine. I'll do it eventually. I just, I just need the right time."

"How's the stutter?" Speaking of trauma results. Ratchet still doesn't know the full story. Far as anyone knows, especially the doctor. Bumblebee was Only torn into.

And that's All ANYONE will know. If they knew more, if they knew more the treatments and pity will be worse.

But Somehow. Bumblebee looking into Ratchet's optics. Staring into them, the way Ratchet is careful with how he touches him. Does he know anyway?

"It comes and goes. Just worse, just worse, just-" Bumblebee is stuck on the phrase. Then rewrites his wording. "It hurts to talk when stressed." That phrase took so much to simply state.

Ratchet holds his stare to Bumblebee, taking his hand off his shoulder. "You can talk to me about this. I won't judge you for what happened there."

"There's nothing, nothing." Bumblebee starts slipping off the exam table. "There's no reason to talk. I got ripped open. End of story." He jumps down and there's obviously a wince as he lands.

"Bumblebee." Ratchet is stern as Bee starts heading for the door. "I didn't dismiss you."

"We done?" Bumblebee looks back. The words forced out once more.

"Yes," Ratchet has his arms to his sides. "But I want you to promise me, you will wash up eventually. You'll feel better, I promise."

Bumblebee stares at him and though his mouth is moving no more words come out. So he nods, but runs as quick as he can out of there.

Ratchet pulls back up his data pad. Reading over his notes. "No severe damage to the vocalizer; healed." Then adds. "Stuttering, glitching and nonverbal reactions still persists." A pause as he continues to type. "Perhaps the damage to the Spark is the source." How to ask Bumblebee to sit there and let him examine that when the young mech won't even stay still longer then five cycles with his chassis open again.

\--

He stares three cycles at the door to the communal wash room. Hand on it, all he has to do is push it open. Just push it and get it over with.

"Bumblebee?"

At the call of his name he instantly pulls his hand away and looks to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe standing there. Cloth over their shoulders and solvent in Sideswipe's hand. 

"Are you going in?" Sunstreaker asks there's no change on his voice, no change of expression. No sign of pity. But there is something there on his face that Bumblebee can't read.

"I was." Struggling, "just leaving."

"No you weren't." Sunstreaker moves closer and pushes the door open for him. "You're filthy."

Sideswipe makes a pained expression over the bluntness of his twin. "Its fine if he's a little mud caked. You don't even put up a fuss when I'm that dirty, Sunny!" He lets out a slight laugh and grins at Bumblebee. 

But Bee stands there awkwardly between the twin's glances. Sunstreaker who refuses to move, hand with the door fully opened for him. 

And the realization, that he's scared to say no. Embarrassed, more properly. He'd been like this for days now. Going on two Earth weeks. So he scurries inside.

Sunstreaker watches him enter in and looks to Sideswipe pointing him inside. So Sideswipe hurries behind as well, followed finally by Sunstreaker. Letting the door slide shut. 

Bumblebee realizes his mistake.

There's Prime. Oh, there's Optimus Prime in the communal and there's too many mechs in one washroom. But he can't run, if he runs he outs that there truly is something wrong with him. Just how damaged he'd become. He takes a deep vent and backs into Sideswipe.

"Woah, careful little Bee." He has his hands on his shoulder and points to a corner. "We'll be down here if you need the help."

Bumblebee bucks his shoulder. Unable to form words so he quickly makes his way to an area mostly clear of everyone else. Back turned to them. But he can feel it. The occasional looks and sorrowed expressions. The water hitting off himself.

He's picking at his paint and the mud. But really its the paint he's picking off. Listening to the hushed tones. Then the tension rises as he hears large steps come to him. Metal on metal. 

"It is good to see you, Bumblebee." The poor kid forces all his will not to break down at the sound of Prime's voice. Standing behind him.

He turns back to him. Staring up. "Hey, Optimus." It takes too long for the words to come out. And just long enough for Prime's face to falter as he moves to sit by him.

No, that wasn't an invitation. That wasn't for Prime to sit with him. No. No, no, no. Optimus should never see him in such a sorry state. Even after the damage has healed. That doesn't fix what Megatron did. The rain pouring into him, like the hot water hits off him now.

That doesn't Fix that Megatron WANTED Optimus to see what he was willing to do to those Optimus kept by his side.

His spark is tight. Bumblebee feels his spark is getting squeezed and tugged. He's picking more at his arm at the paint and mud. Turning his head down to the floor. Pulling the paint off himself. Optics shut tight.

"Do you need help?" Its awkwardly asked. But the concern in Optimus' voice carries hard into Bumblebee's processers. Causing him to pick harder. "You're safe here, Bumblebee."

"That's not the ISSUE!" Bumblebee suddenly shouts. But it is, even if Bee won't admit it. Its vulnerable here. His optics open again and he glances to his side seeing the twins bend to look down his way. 

Optimus look down at him and gently pull his hand off his picked apart arm. "You're going to hurt yourself like this."

Bumblebee pulls his hands away. Standing. "I can't be in here." The sound of water hitting the floor is loud. Optimus is staring so soft and concerned.

Pity. 

Its always Pity how they look at him.

No one knows how to treat him now. 

No one knows what was Done. And he's gonna keep that part that way.

Optimus Prime moves to stand and Bumblebee yells. "Don't!" He's trembling. Taking steps back. "I just-"

And the words are struggling. They are gone. There is nothing Bumblebee can say without making a larger scene even if he could speak. He bolts for the door pushing past Jazz who was just making his way inside.


End file.
